


The Long Night

by imperialdragonborn



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Arianna's canon pregnancy, F/F, Pregnancy, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-26 16:15:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5011327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imperialdragonborn/pseuds/imperialdragonborn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arianna knows how to survive the hunt: lock your doors, hold a knife tight, hope your incense lasts. Hope isn't always enough though and when her supplies run low she's convinced it's the end - until a new hunter offers her a safe space to brave out the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Long Night

The nights are long in Yharnam.

Arianna is used to it. You can’t live in Yharnam and not be; if the city has one consistent feature – aside from blood - it’s the night, heavy with fog and incense and the dreaded stench of beasts.

Just because she’s used to it doesn’t mean she likes it. The night of the hunt is worse of all, a never-ending stretch of howling near her door and screaming in the streets.

The soft knock against her door on the night of the hunt startles her more than she’d admit. It’s so normal for a hunt, but she’s not fooled. Beasts in the early stages of turning can be clever things.

She goes to the door clutching a knife – a slim little dagger that probably won’t do her much good but feels comforting – but is drawn up short by the smell wafting through from the street. It’s…odd. Not like the stench of beasts or blood. It makes her curious enough to push back a slip of the curtain and peer out.

A woman stands before her door, tall and broad and with hair that might be grey or silver, it’s hard to tell. She’s pretty, or would be if not covered in blood.

“That’s a strange scent you’ve got,” Arianna comments lightly and the woman startles. She wonders how many houses she’s knocked at tonight, only to receive no answer or worse. In Yharnam, there are many things worse than nothing.

“I’m a hunter,” the stranger replies. Her accent sharpens her letters to hard knocks, marking her as an outsider to the city. How interesting, a hunter from afar.

“And what is it I can do for you then? I’m off during hunts, so if that’s why you’re here you’ll have to come back in the morning, darling.”

Even through the grime of the glass she can see the hunter blushing. How strangely endearing.

“Uh, no. I mean. I didn’t…” The hunter looks away, shakes their head. “I’ve a safe space here in the Cathedral Ward, for those that need it.”

A safe space? Arianna is tempted. Her incense supply won’t last the night, not when the nights are as long as they are. But this hunter…she doesn’t know if they’re worth their word and the streets are doubtlessly more dangerous than her home. No, best to stay put.

“I’ll stay where I am, darling. But kind of you to offer.”

The hunter looks like they’re about to argue, so she continues. “There’s a man across the street you can make your offer to if you like. But I warn you he’s a suspicious sort, if you tell him the sky is up he’ll insist it’s down just to spite you.”

Their mouth twitches as though they’re thinking of smiling and she nods. “I’ll keep that in mind. You stay safe – I can come back later, if you change your mind you can let me know. Or tell me to sod off.”

Arianna laughs. A hunter that can make jokes – or she hopes it is a joke – a rare thing indeed. “I’ll keep that in mind. You watch yourself, hunter. The nights are long in Yharnam.”

She lets the curtain fall back into place, her mood foolishly lighter than before.

***

Her incense isn’t going to last. She’d known that before, fool woman, _why_ did she turn the hunter away? She’s got no sense and now she’s going to have her home invaded by beasts and…

The knock against the door startles her worse than before. She drops the knife and it clatters over the tiles, the sound stings her ears. She scoops it up and hurries for the door.

It’s the hunter, as if willed into existence by her frantic thoughts.

“Ah, hunter,” Arianna says, willing herself to sound calm. “Couldn’t stay away I see?”

She’s cleaned the blood off of her but there’s something dark and wet-looking clinging to her hair. Arianna vows not to look too closely at it.

“Just couldn’t help myself,” she says, grinning even as she glances over her shoulder to check for danger. You can never let your guard down in Yharnam. “I came to ask about the safe space. Your suspicious neighbour went, I think. Either that or he’s decided to stop answering my knocks.”

“Entirely possible,” Arianna says. “I…think I will take you up on that offer. My incense won’t last, I’m afraid. Can you give directions? I’ll need to gather some things.”

“I can wait,” the hunter offers. “The streets are clear for the moment but that can change any time; I’d hate for you to…well, I wouldn’t want you to leave the house on my account and then…”

A hunter squeamish about saying the word death? How sweet. Bizarre and more than a little unfitting for their profession, but sweet.

“You can wait inside,” Arianna says. Eight locks later and she’s able to ease the door open enough to allow the hunter in.

She’s tall enough she has to stoop to avoid knocking her head on the doorframe and she’s clearly built strongly enough to wield the great-axe holstered on her back. Her armour is dark leather with a cloak billowing around her shoulders; her nose is crooked, and there’s a beauty spot just below her left eye. Arianna allows herself a moment to take the details of her in before she turns to gather her things.

They wait patiently, lingering by the door with one hand holding back the curtain to watch the street. “I’m Lucinda,” she offers suddenly.

Arianna glances at them. Lucinda. Not the name she would have chosen, but she’s not a mother, so what would she know about naming anyone? “I’m Arianna,” she says and drapes a shawl around her shoulders. “And I’m ready to go.”

The walk to the safe space is a slow one, mainly because Lucinda seems concerned about checking everywhere before she lets Arianna continue. At one point she hears footsteps a moment before Lucinda pushes her into an alcove. Up close she can see a scar that cuts through her eyebrow and a cluster of freckles dusted across her cheeks.

“Stay here,” she orders and steps away.

It seems to take an age for Lucinda to return, though it could only have been minutes. Arianna clutches her knife tight and listens to the sound of battle, Lucinda grunting in pain and something – she doesn’t want to think what – crying out as it dies. Or she hopes that’s what she’s hearing and Lucinda hasn’t just died, leaving her to face…

“All right,” Lucinda appears again and makes her jump with fright. “It’s safe.”

Safe. In Yharnam? Ha. Arianna tries to laugh at the notion but it comes out sounding a little hysterical, so she gives up on that and just follows Lucinda instead.

The Cathedral Ward is imposing enough in daylight, but at night it makes all the hair on the nape of her neck stand up. Arianna doesn’t even dare to breathe too loudly lest some beast catch the scent of it. She stands so close to Lucinda she steps on the back of her shoes twice, but doesn’t apologize because that would mean making noise. She saves it for if – when, she has to believe they’ll be a when – they arrive at the safe zone. 

“The Chapel of Oedon?” Arianna says in surprise as they turn a corner. “That’s the safe space?”

“Has enough incense to get through the night.” Lucinda answers. She sounds very sure, so Arianna supposes she’ll just have to trust her.

Trust is a strange thing in Yharnam, especially for someone like her. But she’s already followed Lucinda into the night and too late she realises what a gesture of trust that was, so what’s a little more? If it gets her killed at least it will be in pretty company.

***

Oedon Chapel is…nice, in its own odd way. The creature that lingers in the corner and calls themself the Chapel Dweller is a little disquieting to look upon, but seems friendly. She appreciates the distracting conversation if nothing else.

Her suspicious neighbour is there too. Seems Lucinda told him to go to a Clinic rather than the Chapel, so he came to the latter. She wonders if Lucinda did that because of what she told her, then decides that can’t be true. No-one has ever attributed worth to her words before.

There’s an old woman that worries her; at times she seems bitter and at others desperately sad. Arianna talks to her and gets little by way of reply, but she feels better for trying at least.

The woman from the Healing Church, Adella, she avoids altogether. She doesn’t miss the way her eyes follow her when she moves around the chapel, can’t ignore the dark glint to them. She scares her, which might be foolish. But she finds herself angling her chair so there’s no way for her to sneak up on her.

Lucinda visits often and talks with everyone. Arianna thanks her for bringing her to the chapel, apologizes at last for stepping on her shoes. She wants to do more, though.

So she makes an offer of her blood.

Lucinda’s eyes go wide. Her entire body seems to go tense. All at once, Arianna realises what a dreadful mistake she’s made.

“Or not,” she adds quickly. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want a whore’s blood anyway.”

She hadn’t meant for the self-loathing to creep in but, well, too late for that now. A look that ventures dangerously close to pity settles over Lucinda’s face and Arianna bristles at it. The last thing she wants is pity.

She’s a step away from snapping when Lucinda leans close, surprising her.

“Adella offered me her blood too,” she confesses in a whisper. Her lips are so close to Arianna’s ear she feels the press of their imprint when Lucinda speaks. “I refused. I don’t know how she’d take it if I…”

Does Lucinda see the same dark glint to their Healing friend? It would seem so, though obviously not wise to voice it. “I understand,” she says and dares to rest her fingers against Lucinda’s arm. “If you change your mind, we can slip off somewhere private, away from prying eyes. People won’t suspect the truth.”

Lucinda has gone very, very red. It’s endearing. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she says, her cold fingers touching Arianna’s wrist. “But there’s blood enough in the streets of Yharnam - I think yours should stay right here where it belongs.”

She pulls away and grants her a bashful smile before turning to her lamp. Arianna will never get used to seeing her vanish like she was never there at all. Her only proof she was is the ghost of her touch, lingering on Arianna’s wrist.

***

When Lucinda arrives back at the chapel, she looks about ready to fall over. All the same she does her rounds, stumbling around each person, coming to Arianna last.

“Can I sit?” Lucinda asks, her voice thin and cracking.

“Of course.”

Lucinda slumps to the floor beside Arianna’s chair, so close to leaning against her yet so far away. Arianna contemplates touching her hair, thinks better of it and then decides, why not? If she can’t be daring on the night of the hunt, when can she?

Her hair is thin and soft like feathers. Arianna draws her fingers through it gently and Lucinda hums, seeming to enjoy the sensation.

“You look tired,” Arianna says eventually.

“I am tired.” Lucinda agrees. “I feel like…I don’t know. Like I might be falling apart at the seams or something.”

Arianna hums and leans forward, tilting Lucinda’s chin back. She is daring and runs her finger along the column of her throat. “You seem to be in one piece to me.”

Lucinda smiles and it seems genuine despite how tired she is. Arianna wonders what she must have seen out in the wilds of Yharnam and decides she’s better off not knowing. Some things you remember and some things you don’t forget. Yharnam is full of the latter, especially for hunters.

“I should have brought knitting with me,” Arianna says to try and keep the mood light. “I could have made you a scarf by now.”

“It would be wasted on me,” Lucinda says, holding her sleeve up to show it’s been turned to rags. “Fine craftsmanship and hunters don’t mix.”

“What does mix with hunters then?” Arianna asks, smirking.

Lucinda blushes very prettily, which is a good thing since she spends so much time doing it. “You’ll have to find out for yourself.”

But it seems their time is done. A frown settles over her face and Arianna knows she has to go before she says anything. Lucinda sighs and slowly pushes to her feet. As she stands, her knees click painfully. “I should get back to it.”

“I suppose a hunt isn’t a hunt without a hunter,” Arianna says, trying to sound brighter than she feels. She isn’t sure why Lucinda’s presence soothes her like it does, but she’s not about to question providence. She’ll be sad to see her go. There’s a strange pain brewing in her gut, like the beginning of cramps; they’re easier to ignore with company.

“I suppose not,” Lucinda says.

She sounds miserable and Arianna can’t blame her. Yharnam has reasons for misery in droves.

***

The red moon rises and Arianna gets little time to be impressed by it. The pains come swiftly, the nausea soon after. It’s an ache in her lower stomach so fierce it makes her breathless. She’d had a little pain before but put it down to nerves and a lack of food and ignored it. This cannot be ignored.

The Chapel Dweller asks her if she’s all right and all she can do is hiss out from between gritted teeth, “been better.”

Eventually, she realises what’s wrong. It’s ridiculous, it _can’t_ be true, but she can’t ignore fact. She’s pregnant. She’s having a baby, sometime very soon if the contractions – the cramping pain, that’s the reason for them - are anything to go by.

She presses a hand against her stomach and feels something writhing within her. The horror of it is immediate, she feels bile burning the back of her throat and twists in her chair, vomiting on the floor.

“Arianna?” The Chapel Dweller calls. “Are you -”

“No,” she says and it comes out like a sob. “No I’m not.”

She can’t stay. She needs to…she pushes up and nearly topples over. Something wet slides down her thigh but she refuses to look at it. She grits her teeth and makes herself walk.

She keeps moving until she’s in the sewer with water lapping around her ankles. She wonders if the smell of incense covers this far and decides she doesn’t care.

The thing inside her keeps moving, the pain gets worse and worse until –

Arianna can’t look at it. The…thing, child, whatever it is, she puts her hands over her eyes and turns away so she can’t see. It doesn’t cry like a baby, but it’s not silent either. She wishes it would be, she _needs_ it to be silent. Why won’t it just be quiet!

“Arianna? What’s...?” Lucinda’s voice comes from far away, echoing like they’re in a cave.

“Don’t look at…” Her voice hitches. What was she going to say? Don’t look at the thing writhing on the floor or don’t look at her? Both? Neither? She wants Lucinda to go away. “It’s a nightmare.”

She starts to cry and it turns to a laugh somewhere, there are tears trekking down her face but she’s giggling. Because it has to be a joke, doesn’t it? Women don’t just suddenly _become pregnant._ Women don’t give birth to…to…

“Arianna.” Lucinda’s voice is closer. “Arianna, look at me.”

She presses her hands against her eyes until white spots dance in the darkness of her vision. “No, no, just leave me alone, just go away, just make it be quiet!”

She feels a hand on her knee and it might be Lucinda or it might not, she doesn’t know anymore, her whole body is aching and she just wants it all to stop. To be _quiet._

“Do you…want me to take it away?”

“I don’t know.” That’s the honest answer. She doesn’t know anything anymore.

“Then I won’t. I won’t unless you’re sure.”

Lucinda stays with her for a long time. Arianna isn’t sure how long, but she’s quiet and for that she’s desperately grateful.

***

She falls asleep at some point, or must do, because suddenly someone is nudging her awake. She aches from sleeping in a stiff chair and her eyes sting like she’s been crying.

She feels better for seeing Lucinda.

The hunter looks…different. Her armour has changed, she’s dressed in civilian clothes now. There’s no blood on her either, a rare sight. There’s more colour to her cheeks and she doesn’t look so tired.

“Morning,” she says by way of greeting.

Morning? “The night’s over?”

Lucinda nods.

Arianna looks about the chapel and finds it empty, save for them. “Strange, I…I had the most terrible dream. I suppose I slept through the end of the night. I dreamt…” Arianna isn’t sure she wants to talk about her dream. It’s upsetting even to think about.

But it must have been a dream, right?

“I seem to remember being in the sewer,” she says instead of voicing the truth.

A look flits across Lucinda’s face, too quick for her to read. “Well I found you here, so I don’t know about that.”

Her shoes feel strange, like they’d once been wet. Had it been raining on the way to the chapel? It’s a little hard to remember.

“Come on,” Lucinda says, reaching a hand out towards her. “Let’s get out of here. I’m sick of the smell of incense.”

Arianna takes her hand, though she can’t shake the feeling she’s missing something. “You’ll not last long in Yharnam then, incense is everywhere.”

“I’ve incentive enough to stand it.”

There’s promise in her smile and Arianna focuses on that, banishing the lingering feeling there’s something she has to do. If it’s important it will come back to her. If not, well. There are a lot of things in Yharnam that are best left forgotten. Perhaps it is just one of them.


End file.
